


Anytime

by WaywardWanderer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardWanderer/pseuds/WaywardWanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello, is this Derek?”</p>
<p>“Yes, who's this?”</p>
<p>“This is Kelly, from Pappy's Bar on 87th. Your friend Stiles needs a ride home. Can you come get him?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. On my way.”</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>The one where Stiles is not okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anytime

Stiles wakes up confused and hungover on a couch he's far too familiar with. “Fuck,” he moans.

“Morning, sunshine.” Derek greets from the kitchen.

“What time is it?” Stiles asks, face smashed into the pillow that's been unofficially his since he started crashing at the loft last summer.

“Just after ten.” Derek answers. 

“Coffee?”

“You'll have to come in here and get it.” Derek says evenly.

“You're the devil.” Stiles grumbles.

“I thought Peter was the devil.” Derek grins, pouring himself coffee.

“Then you're the devils nephew.” Stiles concedes.

Derek chuckles. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Fiiiiinnnnneeeee.” Stiles whines as he shoves the blanket off. “You better have half and half this time.” 

“Or what?”

“Or I'll throw up on you.” Stiles says as he opens up the fridge. Derek laughs and sits down at the little table he got last month. Stiles pulls out the unopened bottle of half and half and sits down in the other chair. “Thanks.” Stiles mumbles.

“Any time.” Derek says, taking a sip of his coffee as he opens the paper.

This is what they do. Stiles gets shit faced down town, shows up at Derek's loft, crashes on the couch. The next morning Stiles drinks Derek's coffee, they bitch at each other. Stiles goes and picks up his jeep and goes home. It's a lovely little arrangement, especially now that Derek has given up asking if he's okay. 

He stopped asking right around the time he had gotten a call from a women from Stiles cell.

_“Hello, is this Derek?” the women had asked._

_“Yes, who's this?” he asked, worry flooded through him._

_“This is Kelly, from Pappy's Bar on 87th. Your friend Stiles needs a ride home. Can you come get him?”_

_“Yeah. On my way.”_

_Derek lives walking distance from what he calls the drinking district, so driving only took about five minutes. When he walks into the bar he finds Stiles almost at once._

_“Derek!” Stiles yells and waves at him, almost falling off his stool._

_“Are you okay?” Derek asks, grabbing Stiles by the shoulder to steady him._

_“I'm so good.” Stiles grins. “Kelly's just a worry wort. Didn't think I'd be able to make it on my own.” Stiles leans in and whispers loudly. “I think she's in love with me.”_

_“You puked in the bathroom.” Kelly says dryly._

_“Only a lil' bit.” Stiles says dismissively._

_It takes ten minutes to close out Stiles tab and get him in the car. Mainly because he kept trying to convince Derek to try something called a blue volcano. “It's so good. And I bet it's strong enough that even you'd get a little buzzed.” He didn't seem interested in hearing that that wasn't how werewolf's worked._

_“Thanks for comin' to get me.” Stiles mumbles when they're in the car, his face pressed up against the window._

_“Anytime.”_

0o0

It's past midnight when Derek opens the door like he always does. Even after all the times he's seen Stiles blackout drunk, he still wasn't expecting to see him with a bloody lip and a few bruises starting to form around his eye. 

“What the hell happened?” 

“I might have gotten into a fight.” Stiles says as he pushes past him into the loft. 

“Might have?” Derek mocks, following him into the kitchen. He makes him sit at the table while he digs out a bag of frozen peas from the freezer.

“I hate peas.”

“Ha ha. You're so funny.” Derek deadpans, using maybe a little bit too much force to place the bag on Stiles face. “Hold that there.” Derek orders. “Now, what happened?”

“I told you; I got in a fight.”

“With who?”

“Some guy at a bar.”

“Stiles.” Derek says tiredly.

Stiles doesn't looks at him as he sighs. “I saw Danny tonight.”

“You got in a fight with Danny?” Derek asks incredulously.

“No, no. I... I saw him at a club. He was with his new boyfriend.” Stiles says the last part with a sneer. 

“You got in a fight with his new boyfriend?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, readjusting the peas on his face. “He was fine. Bill. Ugh. He was great and nice and wonderful. And I was a fucking delight. You'd have been proud.” 

“So, what happened?”

“They left. And I, I don't know, just got in a mood, like I was just mad. Not at Danny, or Bill, not really. Just at life. And I just wanted to get out of there, then this guy bumped into me and I just lost it.” He coughed and glanced up at Derek. “I... punched him in the face.”

“Stiles.” Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know, I know.” Stiles groaned. “It was stupid and I got my ass beat, so I don't need a lecture right now.”

“Well, what the hell do you need?” Derek asked frustratedly. “Cause this isn't okay.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Do you have any idea what you're doing to the people around you? Forget the guy you punched in the face for fucking bumping into you tonight. Think about Scott, about your dad.”

“Don't you fucking talk to me about my dad.” Stiles says in a deadly quiet voice. “If you don't want me coming here anymore, I won't. But don't you fucking talk about him.”

“Stiles-”

“No.” Stiles gets up and drops the bag of peas on the table. “I'm leaving.”

“You don't have to leave.” Derek sighs and gets up to follow him.

“Well you don't fucking want me here.” Stiles goes to open the door but Derek holds it closed with his hand.

He crowds Stiles against the door and places his other hand on Stiles hip. In a soft voice he says; “I'm sorry I brought him up.” Stiles doesn't say anything, but Derek can feel him shake against him. “I'm sorry.”

“What if he doesn't wake up?” Stiles whispers.

“He will.” assures Derek.

“It's been six months.” 

“Stiles,” He says softly, gently turning him around so that they're face to face. “He's going to wake up.” Derek starts rubbing small circles into Stiles hip, bringing his other hand away from the door to cup Stiles face. “And when he does, he's going to kick your ass for all the trouble you've been getting into.”

Stiles laughs. It's watery and not the kind of laugh Derek used to secretly love, but it's a laugh. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Derek says. 

Maybe once John wakes up, after Stiles isn't so vulnerable, maybe Derek will tell him how he feels. But until then...

“C'mon.” Derek says, leading Stiles over to the couch. “Go to sleep.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but does as he's told. Once he's kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket that's usually draped over the back of the couch over his shoulders he lays down with his back to Derek.

When Derek turns off the light and is about to go to his room he hears Stiles whisper. “Say it again.”

“He'll wake up.” Derek says, trying to sound as sure as he can.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.


End file.
